


Hold On

by AngelFromUnderneath



Category: Ballerina | Leap! (2016)
Genre: Angst, Ballet, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Might get a little creepy, Will turn into a sequel eventually I think, dance, mild description of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 13:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelFromUnderneath/pseuds/AngelFromUnderneath
Summary: So I've decided to write out the entire story of the movie with a few of my own twists and a little more angst - and I also think that I will continue after the movie's storyline ends.Note that my story begins at the opera, not the orphanage, because I'm dying to write Odette.





	Hold On

Dazed, like a moth drawn to the light, Félicie wandered into the Opéra de Paris.  
The floor, as well as the grand staircase in the centre of the foyer, and the countless chandeliers were polished to such an extent, that the girl could easily see her reflection in every one of them. 

The quiet sound of music drifted through the air as Félicie turned slowly to take in the entire scene. She followed the sound, almost as if in a trance, passing by a picture of a beautiful dancer dressed all in white. She stopped only for an instant to admire its elegance before being drawn further into the building by the soft music. 

It didn't take long for the girl to find her way into the backstage area, where the music was louder than before. Everything around her, Victor, the magnificent building, the portrait on the wall, was forgotten when Félicie caught sight of the ballerina on stage.

A young woman, not older than 25, was performing a solo in a white costume, rimmed with blue pearls and silver stitching. She wasn't dancing, she was flying across the stage on the tips of her toes. 

Félicie stared as the music took on a more dramatic tone and the dancer glided sideways, turned and extended her legs in a breathtaking leap across the entire stage. It was a fascinating sight, so entrancing that the little orphan reached out, feeling as if she could touch the ballerina in mid-flight. 

But the fragile hand was snatched up by a rough, much larger one. Félicie gasped.

"Little rats coming in here to steal!" The crooked man pulled her through the corridors with such force, the girl feared he would pull out her arm.  
"I was looking at the dancer!" She tried to defend herself, but like most adults he wouldn't listen.  
"Liar! Empty your pockets!" 

Seeing the orphan disobeying his order, the caretaker lifted his hand to show the disrespectful child what kinds of punishments he was able of giving. 

But, just in time to save the girl, someone interrupted him. A voice he knew too well, belonging to a woman who too often got in the way of his business. A woman who had once, he remembered, walked these halls as an elite before dropping from the top to the very bottom of the hierarchy of staff - of humankind. 

"Leave her alone," the voice was calm, but nevertheless had a dangerous edge.

He dropped his hand in defeat, grabbing the orphan by the back of her blouse instead, "She came here to steal!"  
The child twisted and squirmed in his grip, "I didn't! I really didn't!"

"Think this through." Odette - that was her name, the caretaker suddenly remembered - continued, "If you hurt her, you will have to explain how she got here in the first place." 

She did have a point. But who was he too follow a woman's orders? 

"And, aren't you supposed to be taking care of the building? Do you really want to take the fault for this?" 

Félicie couldn't believe her eyes. Right here in front of her was the first person in the entire city of Paris who had actually shown her some kindness, given her some help. She could feel the man's grip on her arm loosen before he stomped off, mumbling and muttering to himself. Maybe she wasn't that lost at all?

Hope written all over her face, the girl looked up at her saviour, but the woman didn't seem to care much about her at all. She just gave her a little shove towards the door.

"Clear off."  
"But -"  
"Go," the woman almost hissed, "Get out of here."

All of a sudden, Félicie was lost all over again. Without knowing what to do or where to go, she sat down on the cool stone of the steps to the opera and put her head in her hands. Why did Victor even have to fall off that stupid bridge? Why did they even leave the orphanage? It had all been for nothing.

She was pulled out of her miserable thoughts by the sound of steps, accompanied by a rhythmic clicking sound. She turned around to see the same woman who had saved her leaving the building on her way home.

She didn't think much of her idea as she leapt into action to pursuit. 

The woman, though still quite young, was using a wooden stick to help her walk. An asset for Félicie, who could easily follow the sound. 

But in an instant the sound disappeared and Félicie stood for a moment, confused, before letting out a small shriek as she was pinned against the wall in a surprisingly quick movement.

"I have nothing to steal." Had the girl not made her point clear about not being a thief? But there was no time to argue, the rather strong grip was blocking her airways.

"... can't ... breathe-" she gasped, but, when she was finally released, continued to make her point, "But you're the only person to show me any kindness in this city. I've been separated from my best friend and I have nowhere to go ... and I'm an orphan."

The woman seemed amused, though Félicie had definitely not been joking, "Nice try. But I hate kids. Go find another idiot." And with that, she was back on her way. 

Félicie had never been one to give up easily though. She hurried along behind the woman. Attempting to get her to open up a little, the girl asked, "Who was that dancer on stage?"  
"Rosita Mauri, top dancer at the opera." The answer was stoic and annoyed. 

"And that crazy-jumpy-thing she did! What was that?"  
A sigh.  
"I wish I could be a dancer ... Are you a dancer?" 

Odette had had enough. Not only had she made a mistake by helping the child, but now it was stalking her to no end. She stopped with a sharp turn.  
"I'm a cleaner - and you're an irritation. Go away." 

She didn't hear any more footsteps as she approached the Le Haut's house. Good. She had no desire of seeing Madame's reaction to an orphan from the streets trailing after her cleaner. 

Speak of the devil. Madame le Haut, an imposing individual with a nest, teased to height of the Eiffel tower, of black hair to match her ego, was impatiently waiting behind the gate.

Odette only acknowledged her with a polite nod as she turned the lock on the door to her room.

"The stairs, Odette," Madame purred, her looks better suiting a street cat than a tiger, "The stairs are a disgrace. I have guests tomorrow and I want my building looking worthy."

Odette felt her shoulders slump with exhaustion, "I understand, Ma'am."  
"If you do, then why are you entering your rooms?"  
It was an unspoken order and she knew better than to ignore it. With a quiet sigh she filled a bucket with ice cold water, making her fingertips numb, and hauled it a few steps before she was startled by a small redhead appearing next to her once again.

"Let me help you!"  
Odette groaned, "Get out of here." Would she never get rid of this child?  
"I can clean," the girl continued with a goofy smile, "In fact, Squeaky Clean is my middle name. I'm young, my legs work, yours don't -"  
At that, Odette cast her a disapproving glance.  
"- and it's going to feel so much easier with me helping." 

One look at the endless flight of stairs made Odette realize that the orphan was right. She took a few steps into the house, then turned to see a confused look.  
"Are you coming?"


End file.
